Deep in the Meadow
by destiny's sweet melody
Summary: Nightmares don't always include blood and gore. Sometimes, the sweetest memories can be the most painful. One shot. Peeta/Katniss


**Disclaimer:**I do not own the Hunger Games or any recognizable characters found herein. I make no profit off of this story.

A/N: My first Hunger Games fic! Yay!

I have always been intrigued by characters that avoid happiness/love/etc. because they're afraid of how much it'll hurt if/when they lose it. I find it funny that Peeta, who is such a romantic, is the one whose nightmares involve losing Katniss, and hers are pretty straightforward - things/people trying to kill her.

**Warnings:** Set pre-Mockingjay, so spoilers up to Catching Fire. Contains Peeta/Katniss and a dash of Thresh/Rue (just because I like it, but it CAN be read as friendship) and the same type of vague Cato/Clove vibe that was found in the book.

Italics are taken straight from the books.

Btw, I'm sure this title has been used in about a hundred THG fics, but it fit more than anything else.

* * *

**Deep in the Meadow**

Rue is singing again. It would have been strange for her not to be. Music was her favorite thing in the world, after all. It was an average occurrence by now, but Katniss couldn't help but be in awe of the little wisp of a person standing in the middle of a field of wildflowers, singing at the top of her lungs. Her voice may not have been the greatest in the world, but it was beautiful. Thresh sat beside her, standing guard, and smiling lovingly.

_"Just this one time, I let you go. For the little girl."_

Katniss' smile - when had they become so easy to come by? - falters at the sound of Thresh's voice, angry and frustrated. Confused, a little, maybe conflicted. She can't quite remember where she heard it.

Somewhere, towards the trees at the edge of the meadow, she knows the others are there.

There is music there too. Glimmer, still beautiful and elegant, is dancing for a crowd. Nearly all of them are watching her enraptured.

Only a few slip away.

Cato and Clove are throwing knives at a poor, defenseless maple tree. Always training, always together, like they should be.

_"Clove!" Cato's voice is much nearer now. I can tell by the pain in it that he sees her on the ground._

Foxface sits with her back against a tree, far from the others, reading a book. Feeding her mind, always trying to be one step ahead of the crowd.

_... emaciated body is lifted into the air. I can see the red glint of her hair in the sunlight._

Now her brows knit together. Where were these thoughts coming from? They were hardly the type of thoughts she should be having in such a beautiful place on such a beautiful day.

All negative thoughts fly from her mind when she hears his voice say, "Hello, sweetheart."

And unlike before, the word brings a smile to her lips, because she knows it is not meant to be demeaning. It is teasing, and a joke between them. She absolutely hates the idea of pet names, and would just glare whenever he tried to call her "honey" or "darling." The only person allowed to call her anything other than her name was Gale. And that was only because trying to convince him to change his ways would be a mission and a half!

She turns to see him and, for reasons unknown to her, she feels like she could cry. He looks so handsome, so splendid, so _alive_, that she feels she could cry. He smiles and spreads his arms out for her to run into and she doesn't hesitate.

_It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go._

But she _is_ the one to let go, because as she is burying her face in his chest, planning to stay there forever, she hears a small voice call out, "mommy."

Her first instinct is to freeze. She feels her blood turn to ice and goes rigid within Peeta's arms, because she knows this cannot be real. There was no way she would ever... she is certain of it. But she would rather not have to see just to be safe.

In the end, it is the sound of Rue's voice calling out, "Hey there, Junior!" that finally makes her look. Because there is no way that she would name her son Junior, or even Peeta II. She has more creativity than that.

When she looks, however, it is obvious that Junior is simply _his_ nickname. Because he is the spitting image of his father. The same blonde hair, blue eyes, and gentle smile. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she would say that someone had made a miniaturized clone of Peeta. And now she _is_ crying, because she _loves_ this little boy that she had somehow forgotten existed until now. Because she knows that if she could have this boy, this little piece of Peeta forever, then all would be right with the world.

_"You're going to make a great mother, you know."_

She could stare at him forever! Might have if Rue had not said, "Come here with me and Uncle Thresh!"

It is strange, watching the little toddler hobble over to the young girl. He seems so certain of his ability to run, but she just watches intently for any indication he might fall, ready to run and catch him if any should appear. But he makes it all the way to his "Auntie" and he is delighted to just sit and watch her quickly make three wreaths of flowers. One for him, one for her, and one for Thresh.

Katniss is surprised to see him allow Rue place it on his head without a fuss.

All she can do is watch and smile, and she's okay with that. She would happily spend the rest of her life watching her son play, safely and happily, as Peeta wraps his arms around her.

Hours pass languidly and yet too quickly for her. Too soon, it is night and the once pale blue sky has turned a deep almost purplish color, a million stars twinkling like diamonds. It is far more gorgeous than she ever remembers it being. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she is laying amongst dandelions, her head on its proper place over Peeta's heart, and their son nestled between them.

The steady beating beneath her ear has almost lulled her into sleep when Junior starts fidgeting. Peeta's chest rumbles as he laughs at the sight of a grimace on the adorable toddler. She suddenly panics, afraid that her baby may somehow be injured or sick, or even unsatisfied with her presence.

As if sensing her worry, Peeta gently kisses her forehead, "He's just having some trouble falling asleep. You should sing him a lullaby."

She feels the tension leave her body, relieved it is something simple. And then she's smiling, because she knows exactly which lullaby he means.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow..._

She only has enough time to notice how similar the song is to her current situation, and smile at her son's sleeping face, before she drifts off to sleep.

* * *

"Katniss," She hears, and she knows the voice. It's not Peeta, but she trusts it just as much. "Katniss, wake up."

Prim's voice is hushed, and just a little worried. She frowns in worry before she even opens her eyes, and thinks how embarrassing it is that her little sister is finding her wrapped up in Peeta's arms. And then she opens her eyes. And she sees a depressingly gray roof instead of a perfect blue sky.

And she remembers.

_I watch Glimmer fall, twitch hysterically around on the ground for a few minutes, and then go still._

_The boy from District 1 dies before he can pull out the spear. My arrow drives deeply into the center of his neck._

_Rue's eyes have fluttered shut. Her chest moves but only slightly._

_Thresh brings the rock hard against Clove's temple. _

_"Thresh is dead," says Peeta._

_Then the raw hunk of meat that used to be my enemy makes a sound, and I know where his mouth is. And I think the word he's trying to say is _please.

_I can't reach Peeta._

Everyone in that meadow is gone. She has no son. She couldn't even hold onto Peeta when it counted.

Prim is watching her worriedly, but silently hands her a glass of water which she gladly accepts. Katniss knows she's been crying in her sleep, and she knows Prim won't mention it. She's just been released from the hospital, the last thing either of them wants is for her to be sent back.

Yet, when she hands back the glass, Prim opens her mouth to say something and changes her mind at the last second. It's enough for her to know that this was something more than tears. Perhaps she was talking in her sleep, calling out to people she could never reach. Peeta or Rue or Thresh.

... Or maybe even Junior.

"I'm okay," she lies.

Prim's eyebrows knit together. Her eyes are much too expressive, the worry too obvious. "Katniss..." she begins, but Katniss won't allow it.

"I'm okay." She insists, because she has to believe it herself. She can't start talking about her dream, she needs to banish it from her thoughts. Somehow, this is worse than dreaming of the mutts coming to tear her apart or dozens of nameless faces blaming her for their deaths. Having something so beautiful and perfect and losing it is worse than never having it at all.

"I just need a minute alone." She says when Prim won't stop looking at her with those much too wise eyes.

She can tell her little sister doesn't want to leave, but after a moment she relents, "Fine, I'll be right outside, okay?"

It takes more than a minute to put herself together, but thankfully Prim doesn't push. She takes deep breaths, tries to remind herself of all her truths, just like she was taught. She needs it now more than ever. Needs to remember what she has and what she's lost because that's what's going to fuel her in the grim future. She needs to live in the _now_, in the real world, not some fantasy.

But, somehow, she knows that it will be a long time before she stops seeing that precious little boy every time she closes her eyes.

_As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue when she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe._

* * *

A/N: Ok, so I've listed this as angst, because it's easily the moodiest piece I've written, but I'm not sure if it counts. I included the other tributes in this heavenly place because I don't think Katniss hated them, and in an ideal place they would have lived. And she even explicitly states she feels guilty about killing Marvel because he was a _person_ not just a tribute.

**SPOILER** Yes, I know that's not how Katniss' son was described in _Mockingjay_, but since she's not psychic and still "mourning" Peeta she sees their perfect son as his spitting image. I didn't want to make up a name, so I just had them call him Junior because of that. I also didn't include Madge or Cinna because she held out hope for Madge until the very end of Mockingjay, and I would like to think that she held out hope for Cinna until the start of the same book as well. **END SPOILER**

So since it's my first Hunger Games fic, I would really appreciate it if you guys could tell me how I did.

- Destiny's Sweet Melody


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